


burning

by oh_no_what_plot



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Lot of Death, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Apocalypse, Dark, Dark Aelin, Death, Fire, Gen, Sad Ending, So much fire, also she's a total overpowered here, darkest thing i've written, guys this is supposed to be sad, just lots of implications, like even more so than usual, there really isn't romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_what_plot/pseuds/oh_no_what_plot
Summary: the title sounds super clicheit isso is the storyenjoy
Relationships: (but i only realised i was writing it halfway through), Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Nehemia Ytger, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Nehemia Ytger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	burning

**Author's Note:**

> aelin is very op here. this was intentional. i personally just think she kind of... is...

Burning.

Everything was burning.

And standing amongst the flames, Aelin simply watched the walls crumble around her.

It had started as an itch at the back of her mind, a soft growl that warned her that the world would not be kind to her, that she would surely suffer. Back then, amongst family and safety, she had easily extinguished it, ignoring it even when she heard the whispers in the halls and the saw the suspicious looks she got from everyone outside her closest circle of friends and family. She pushed it away when she was scolded for setting fire to various objects, when her parents looked at her like she was a danger to even them in the split second before they moved to comfort her. The voice was there, but it was quiet.

Somewhere nearby, a chorus of wails temporarily drowned out the sound of crackling flames, and Aelin turned her head slightly towards their direction and focused on the flames. The wails stopped.

When she had woken up to see her parents dead, the voice had returned again with a new ferocity, but she had held it back, instead running away from everything she had ever known and loved. It hadn't been easy, and perhaps it had been a miracle that she had even survived at all, but she made it to relative safety. The river had washed her away and, with her, all the control she had ever had over the burning in her mind.

As an assassin, the fire in her mind had never been stronger, consuming her and guiding her through her training. Her pure fury allowed her to rise in fame and rank, and the only reprieve from it was that young man, Sam. But then he was gone before he could even try to calm her flames, and her rage was left to fester in the mines of slaves she never should have been seen near. The burning was here as well, strong in all of the slaves around her and strongest in her own soul. The flames became more and more vivid with each day, and she mourned the lack of her powers. With them, she would burn this whole empire to the ground.

She saw freedom in her reach, and took the chance instantly. Allowed herself to incinerate every enemy in her way, kept her eyes open for a way to reunite her with the fire she had once controlled. Naturally, she had won. It was the only thing she had been certain of in so, so long, besides the blazing in her heart.

As she stood in the flames now, staring at the world, she knew it could only have been fate.

Perhaps some past version of her would have felt regret at manipulating those boys, pretending they were anything more than kindling to her fire. They were nothing more than playthings for her, pawns to bring her closer to killing the king. The metaphor was too perfect, especially when Chaol - that honourable fool - had proved himself of worth by finding the clues to where her fire had gone.

Her fire.

It was almost the only thing she had longed for.

But there was also the dark-skinned princess who had managed to see through Aelin's flames and calmed them down until she almost forgot her hatred for everything. Yet even the princess was lost, and the fire was back, stronger than before and more all-consuming than she could ever have guessed.

The foolish captain of the guard had tried to send her away, and perhaps some other version of her would have let him, but she had stayed and found allies. Her cousin, who had wronged her kingdom, and other such deserters trusted her to lead them in an attack against the king. Leaving them to die at the hands of the king's dark magic, she destroyed the great tower keeping her from her power and revelled in the surge of magic she got from it.

Finally, the fire was back, and it took over every part of her soul, scorching the scraps of morality she had gained from Nehemia and Dorian and Chaol. Their names and faces were lost to the bright light in her mind, and she let it do so. She let it transform her into her true form and set the world on fire.

The rest was hard to recall.

She had killed so many people, so many innocents who she would never come to regret destroying. She knew who she was, and who would come running to her now, and each one turned to ash at her fingertips. There was a Fae male with strange tattoos and white hair who claimed to be her mate, but the only thing he had to offer was power that threatened her own. She pretended to care for just a moment, to lure him in, to play with her prey, before using an ancient sword she had found so long ago to skewer him as well. As he had stared in shock, unable to comprehend the sword through his heart, she had leaned forwards and kissed his lips. Was this the mate he sought? She had asked him as much, but he only had the energy for one last breath before he died.

What a waste.

The others were easier to get rid of, since they were all bound to a queen unwilling to let them use their full potential. That queen was harder to destroy, but the world was already alight and every inch of air around Aelin for a mile was consumed with blue flames, and this seemed too much for the demonic queen. Aelin never did learn her story, but she didn't care. Now all she cared about was ruining everything.

And here she was, in the castle she had grown up in, smiling as the soot accumulated on the floors and the remains of the once majestic roof lay at her feet. There wasn't a person here who still lived; they all reminded her of the stares and whispers, and the voice only needed to say a word in her mind before she had burnt them too.

She drew her sword and observed the blood still on it. Sniffing at it, she identified each scent: the fallen queen, the weak king, the one who may have been her mate. The final one made her pause, and she touched it and let the blood drip from her fingers. Her _mate_. Ha. As if anyone could choose her soulmate. Releasing a dry imitation of laughter, she let the fire take control again.

Perhaps it was days, or weeks, or years later, but Aelin came back to her own consciousness. All she knew was that she had scoured every continent for survivors of her rage and had slaughtered every last one, and that there only remained a huge, swirling portal in the centre of everything. There were shapes flitting in and out of it, but Aelin didn't care. She had finally satisfied her fury.

After everything, knowing that the only survivors were a band of witches who had fled to another world with the remains of humanity, she stood atop mountain in her birth country, the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes. All that remained of her world was fire and the portals which flickered in and out of existence over the random shapes Aelin's flames made over the corpses of those who must have once had the potential for power.

One such portal appeared before Aelin, and she wasn't sure whether it was because she had been standing there for so long or because fate had one last ordeal for her. Out of the swirling darkness came a shape that she sometimes saw in her dreams, when she remembered that she had not always wanted to demolish everything.

Nehemia.

The princess opened her eyes and surveyed the damage Aelin had caused. For once, the demi-Fae did not make a move and simply observed.

She hadn't spoken to a ghost before.

The two finally looked each other in the eyes, and Aelin saw the sorrow in Nehemia's eyes. Her people were dead, perhaps reunited with her, but they had been killed by Aelin, and she felt a shiver of regret at the disappointment in her old friend's gaze. Nehemia opened her mouth, and Aelin's breath caught as she heard her voice.

"It is good to see you, old friend, though I wish the circumstances were less dire."

Aelin didn't say a word, waiting for the inevitable question.

With a change of expression from sad to only slightly more interested, the Eyllwe princess simply asked, "Do you feel complete now?"

That was not the question Aelin had expected. Here she was, the ruler of a world she had torn down herself, and still Nehemia was surprising her.

Once she had gotten over the surprise, she took a deep breath and bowed her head. "No."

"Then what do you feel?"

The flames around them fizzled away slowly, and the ashes and black remains of the world were finally revealed. Only a few fires still raged, though they seemed meek in comparison to what had been present before. Somewhere below the pair, the ground seemed to sigh as it was left to succumb to its end in peace.

There was only one thing she had ever felt, except in those moments before her parents had been snatched away and when she had been truly content with her friends in that glass castle. Except for the times she had been with Nehemia, when the world was still alive.

She had only ever heard the voice, felt the tug of a darker force.

What did she feel? Aelin could only muster one word.

"Burning."

**Author's Note:**

> please comment any feedback! thanks!


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